


In the Dark

by halotolerant



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Cigarettes, Drabble, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-04
Updated: 2010-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halotolerant/pseuds/halotolerant





	In the Dark

"Didn't know you smoked," Bodie says, out of the darkness behind him. Ray doesn't turn round, gazes out of the window at the moonlit web of fire-escapes, stacked with pot plants and washing racks and bicycles and boxes; if this place catches light they're all going to burn.

His cigarette lets out a curl of acrid smoke, cloaking every other scent in the room.

"Only after sex," Ray answers, and inhales again, washing his tongue in bitter and burnt.

He hears Bodie crossing the floor, bare feet padding on carpet, not as silent as Ray's sure he could be, and so he's ready when lips press to the base of his neck.

Or not for that, exactly. But tense, waiting, and the touch wrenches across his skin in shivered spasm, and there, perched on the arm of the sofa, legs drawn up under him, he feels himself lose his balance.

Bodie's tongue is writing letters on his spine, and his hands are going out, fingers running along the length of Ray's arms, the press of nails against every humming nerve.

"You don't have to tell yourself you don't like it," Bodie says, after a while, and Ray can hardly take in the words, on his back now, on the floor, sweating into hot summer air, biting his lip and feeling like he's barely breathing. Bodie's tongue travels over him, along the length of his dick, and Ray can't see his face, and can't remember the tone the words were said in, afterwards.

It's dark, the short, deep darkness of a summer night, too hot for bed sheets, too hot for pyjamas, too hot to be so close to someone, to slide slick skin and race pulses against each other. Bodie only stayed over because they were both so drunk, and the drink got them here, somehow, in a mess of half-intentioned discoveries.

Bodie kissed him first. Ray watched his face come closer, and met him.

He's always known that Bodie did this, as much had been said when they'd first been assigned together. _I shag blokes, if that's a problem you can fucking well cope with it._

I don't. Is that a problem?

Only for you. And then that grin, the devil grin, the one that made Ray want to smack him round the head, which he eventually realised was because that was not the foremost thing it made him want to do.

Ray stares at the ceiling, or where it would be, in the darkness, or maybe his eyes have closed; Bodie's mouth is moving on him, and Bodie's dick is hard and blood-hot, rubbing on his thigh. Ray's fingers grate across the carpet. He thinks about deserts and jungles, about darkness and hidden things.

Bodie can't possibly be able to see him, not really, in the darkness.

Ray bites his lip, frowns, cries out silently, lungs aching and suddenly there's light exploding before his eyes, psychedelic and unlikely brilliance.

"There you are," Bodie says, unless it's something else, and there's heat and wet splattered across Ray's stomach and he bucks into it, quivering, thrusting back into something that's already gone.

Bodie kisses him, the taste in is mouth worse than tar, and Ray will move the covering arm and get up and get to his Marlboros, soon. Soon.

\- - -


End file.
